


not my kind of weather

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:56:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: Bitty has a complicated relationship with winter. (Luckily he has a boyfriend to keep him warm.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_sleepy_animator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_sleepy_animator/gifts).



> Inspired by [this super cute drawing by manyahello](http://manyahello.tumblr.com/post/152853426232/z-bit-cold-there-eh-bitty-b-dont-you-dare) :)

“Ugh,” Bitty says as he hops into Jack’s car. He pulls his scarf out of the way so Jack can actually see that he’s smiling at him. Because, despite the rough start he had today, he is smiling. It’s hard not to smile when he’s this close to Jack. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, Bits,” Jack says, lips twitching. “Got a new scarf?”

Bitty is well aware that he’s practically mummified himself with that scarf, but it’s freezing. “Shush,” he says, “it’s cold.”

Jack blinks at him and puts on his patented _this is what you call cold, try spending some time in Canada_ look.

“It’s _snowing_ ,” Bitty says. He is frozen to the core and he was outside for no more than three minutes. When he looked outside this morning and their front lawn was covered in snow, he might have shed a single tear that very dramatically rolled down his cheek. Or he might have made a huge pot of coffee and gone straight back to bed, refusing to go to the library in this kind of weather. But he definitely thought about shedding several tears. One for each snowflake maybe.

Eric Richard Bittle from Georgia just isn’t made for this kind of weather. He signed up for this when he came to Samwell, but– _But_. He doesn’t have to like it. There.

“Bittle,” Jack says as he pulls away from the station and heads for his apartment, “you’re a hockey player.”

They’ve had this conversation. Bitty narrows his eyes at Jack. “It never snows inside the rink.”

“But it’s still cold in there.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Bitty whines. “I’m not good at… winter. It’s just not my kind of weather.”

Bitty knows that Jack will never be done chirping him about this, but instead of saying anything, Jack only huffs out a quiet laugh. His hand is on Bitty’s thigh a moment later, heavy and warm, and that’s much better, actually.

Jack talks about practice as he drives and his thumb moves ever so slightly on Bitty’s thigh, a steady back and forth that’s awfully distracting. Jack probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing it, but Bitty is most definitely noticing. He missed Jack. And his hands.

Jack’s last visit was a short one, just for an evening after one of Bitty’s games, just long enough for a few kisses. At least this time Bitty could pull Jack up to his room and keep him there for a couple of hours.

Bitty knew that telling their friends would make things easier, but he hadn’t expected it to have this much of an impact. When he left for the train earlier, he didn’t have to lie. When he snuck up the stairs to his room to skype Jack a couple of days ago, he didn’t have to lie. When he reads Jack’s texts and someone asks what he’s smiling about, he doesn’t have to lie. He doesn’t have to watch what he’s saying anymore.

The chirping is horrendous, of course, but it only makes Bitty smile even more. He can roll his eyes all he wants, but Jack Zimmermann is his boyfriend and Bitty is willing to put up with all the chirps in the world if it means that he gets to have this. If it means that he doesn’t have to lie anymore.

He puts a gloved hand on top of Jack’s and Jack squeezes his thigh, lightly.

Jack pulls into his parking space a couple of minutes later and Bitty makes sure to tuck his scarf back into place. He can see Jack smirking at him, but it didn’t get any warmer while they drove here from the train station.

Bitty lets himself be ushered into Jack’s apartment building, the cold pricking at his skin. Jack pulls him close as soon as they’re in the elevator, just the two of them, arms wrapped around each other, no eyes on them. Bitty buries his face in Jack’s coat and just holds on for a moment. He wants to kiss him, badly, but he really likes where he is right now, plastered against Jack, and not quite as cold anymore.

Jack manages to maneuver Bitty out of the elevator with his arms still wrapped around him and down the hall to his apartment door, where Bitty eventually has to let go of him so Jack can get to his keys. He pushes the door open and waves Bitty inside.

Bitty couldn’t say at what point walking into Jack’s apartment started feeling like coming home, but it does, he’s coming home, and Jack is right behind him, already taking off his coat and his shoes.

“Bittle?” Jack says when Bitty makes no move to take off his own.

Bitty does take off his shoes, but he’d rather keep on his jacket, thank you very much. “Ugh.” Incidentally, _ugh_ perfectly sums up his relationship with this weather.

“I have loads of blankets,” Jack says.

He has loads of blankets that he doesn’t even need for himself. He bought them for Bitty, for when Bitty comes here, once a week, or maybe only every two weeks, so he’ll feel comfortable. And it’s not just the blankets. It’s the pie tins and the ingredients in the kitchen. It’s Jack texting him a day before he comes to Providence, asking Bitty if he wants him to pick anything up at the grocery store. It’s the drawer in Jack’s bedroom that’s full of Bitty’s clothes.

Bitty finally shrugs off his jacket and lets Jack unwind the scarf from his neck, then he grabs Jack by the wrist, gloves still on, and pulls him with him.

Jack goes without a word of complaint, the softest of smiles on his face. Bitty wants to look at him all day, at that smile and at the way it makes his eyes crinkle, but it’s cold in Jack’s apartment and Bitty is very much in need of one of those blankets.

He tugs Jack into the bedroom with him. They haven’t even had dinner yet – the plan was that they’d cook together, but Bitty, on a whim, postpones that plan in favor of not freezing to death. Obviously, he could just ask Jack to turn up the heat, but he rather likes the thought of cuddling up with Jack in bed for a while before they make dinner.

“Bits,” Jack says. He shucks off his sweater and lets Bitty push him into bed.

Tugging at the covers, Bitty says, “Dinner can wait for a little while longer, right?” He pulls the duvet over his shoulders like a cape and flops down, ungracefully, on top of Jack who’s sitting up with his back against the headboard.

“Bits,” Jack says again and he sounds so fond that it makes Bitty’s heart ache in the best possible way.

Bitty still hasn’t kissed him, which he has to make up for as soon as he can.

Jack gives his cheek a poke. “You’re still wearing your hat.”

Yes, Bitty is still wearing his hat. “And I’m keepin’ it on.”

“Still a bit cold, eh?” Jack asks, hands on Bitty’s sides. Over the duvet. Bitty wants them under it.

But Jack is chirping him, so Bitty only makes an indignant noise and says, “If you don’t quit it, I’m never making pie for you ever again, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack hums and plants a kiss on Bitty’s forehead, like he’s trying to appease him. And it’s working. Gosh, it’s working, because Bitty is so gone for this boy and, honestly, these are also chirps he’ll gladly put up with.

“Better warm you up, then,” Jack says, his voice low.

Bitty is a goner.

Fingers curling around Bitty’s wrist, Jack’s thumb dips under his glove, slowly trailing over Bitty’s skin. Jack must be able to feel how Bitty’s pulse flutters. Under the covers, he hooks his leg around Jack’s.

Slowly, Jack pulls off Bitty’s glove, sets it aside, and starts kissing Bitty’s knuckles, his fingertips, the palm of his hand, the inside of his wrist, and Bitty doesn’t even try to keep in the sigh that escapes him. He has no idea what he’s done to deserve this, really, sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve this at all. Jack lets go of his hand, puts it on his chest, and trails his knuckles across Bitty’s cheek.

“Better?” Jack asks.

Bitty nods and shifts and holds up his other hand, let’s Jack pull off his glove and do the same thing all over again. He still hasn’t kissed Jack, and on any other given day he’d think it was a tragedy, but this, well, this is nice. There’s that flutter in the pit of his stomach every time Jack presses his lips to his skin, that tingle, that warmth spreading through him, convincing him that it can wait, that he can be patient.

They’re getting there; they’re just taking a different road than they usually do. Because usually, when Bitty comes here, he pulls Jack into a kiss before he’s even out of his shoes. Today they’re taking a bit of a detour.

The hand that is currently not wrapped around Bitty’s gently curls around Bitty’s neck and for a while there’s just the brush of Jack’s fingertips, feather-light, tickling his skin on the back of his neck. Bitty feels like he should be doing something, too, because right now Jack is doing all the work, but Jack doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He never does; he just loses himself in touching Bitty.

Eric Richard Bittle, who had such a challenging morning with all that snow and the biting cold, is, in the end, the luckiest boy in the world.

Jack’s fingers wander into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp before they slip under Bitty’s knitted hat, which is already lopsided. Bitty isn’t too invested in keeping the hat on anymore and only shifts closer to Jack when he pulls it off his head. Jack nuzzles into Bitty’s hair and then Jack’s hands are finally under the covers, running down Bitty’s back, stilling at his sides.

“How about now?” Jack asks. “Still cold?”

Bitty doesn’t even remember what being cold feels like. All there is right now are Jack’s hands and his lips and his warmth. “I’m good,” Bitty says.

“Should’ve turned up the heat before you got here,” Jack mumbles. “Sorry, Bittle.”

“No worries, sweetheart, this is just fine.”

“I can do it now if–”

Bitty curls his fingers into Jack’s shirt. How he can wear that and not instantly drop dead is a mystery to Bitty. Anyway, Jack isn’t going _anywhere_. “Not just now.”

He sits up, keeping the duvet wrapped around himself, and settles in Jack’s lap. He leans in for a kiss and Jack meets him halfway, arms tight around Bitty, who reaches up to cup Jack’s cheek. Jack sneaks another kiss to his palm before he turns his attention back to Bitty’s lips.

“So,” Bitty says. His breaths are coming quickly and you couldn’t pay him to leave this bed right now, which is a tad counter-productive when it comes to making dinner. “I have an idea.”

Jack kisses him, nose bumping against Bitty’s. “Yeah?”

“I know we were gonna make dinner, but maybe we could just…” Bitty kisses Jack’s cheek, then his temple, “order something,” he kisses the tip of his nose, too, “and stay in bed for the rest of the evening.”

Jack tilts his head, like he needs a moment to consider it. “Someone’s going to have to answer the door if we order food.”

“Well, since you’re so used to being out in the cold, being all Canadian and snow-proof and whatnot, I think you should do that, don’t you?”

“Hm,” Jack says, his hands dipping lower, “I think you need to get used to this weather, though.”

“I was serious about never making you a pie ever again in your entire life,” Bitty says and pokes at Jack’s chest with his finger.

Jack laughs and grabs him by the hips, flipping them over. Bitty goes with a yelp, laughing helplessly.

“Jack, you’re letting all the cold air in.”

Jack is quick to grab the duvet and pull it back up, but Bitty already has goosebumps rising on his skin. “Sorry, Bittle. Look at it as cold weather practice.”

“Unbelievable,” Bitty says and sticks out his bottom lip.

“Bittle,” Jack says and leans down, his face hovering inches over Bitty’s. Jack is literally just saying his name, but it’s doing _things_ to him. Good things. Nice things. Wonderful things. The way Jack is looking at him just makes it worse. Or better. Jack’s hands are back on him, warmth seeping through Bitty’s shirt. “Bits.”

Bitty reaches up to pull Jack down the last few inches. Maybe he’ll find it in himself to forgive him for all the chirping.

Jack kisses the corner of his mouth and whispers, “Love you.”

Yeah. He definitely will.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @zimmermaenner on tumblr if you wanna say hi!
> 
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)


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